


The Poisoned Apple (Chapter 37 to 84)

by SeveranSnape



Series: The Poisoned Apple [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, France-Beauxbatons-Gringotts, Harry Potter - Freeform, Post -series, dramione - Freeform, post—hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:59:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5277599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeveranSnape/pseuds/SeveranSnape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: An atrocious act by Draco Malfoy in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor forced Hermione Granger leave behind everything she ever cared for. Six years later, Draco after losing all that he cared for, comes face to face with the consequences. The once innocent Apple now poisoned is his last resort. Will he leave behind old Draco and earn Hermione's trust to start a new beginning?</p><p>Rating: Mature.</p><p>Genre: Angst &; Hurt/Comfort.</p><p>PART 3 OF THE STORY IS ONLY VISIBLE TO THE REGISTERED MEMBERS OF AO3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Poisoned Apple (Chapter 37 to 84)

**Author's Note:**

> ABOUT NOMENCLATURE OF THIS CHAPTER:
> 
> I would like to bring into the notice of my readers the name of this particular chapter which is Grape of Wrath. I borrowed it from John Steinbeck’s 1939 novel ‘Grapes of Wrath’ based on ‘The Great Depression’. The title literally means an ‘unjust or oppressive situation, action, or policy that may inflame desire for vengeance’. Grapes are also considered the fruit of prosperity in symbolism since only affluent society can afford to eat it regularly. Wrath is strong vengeful anger. I used the title in singular form rather than the pleural form and for me the title means ‘A prosperous fruit that was born from vengeful anger’. I hope all my readers will understand what I meant by that title and to whom I referred. All the seven chapters with Hermione’s pregnancy memories will be named after this title with an additional part 1,2,3 and so on up to the 7th part denoting her final month and child birth.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE:
> 
> 1\. Though Harry Potter series is based on magical world, the people who live there are human beings just like any of us. Despite being a children’s story, Harry Potter has touched many deeper human qualities like importance of friendship, love, goodness of heart and sacrifice. Since my fiction is based on real human characters, I object to write some fantasy story with fantasy ending. If my readers kindly consider the wars that had taken place and are currently taking place around the world, they will find that not all perpetrators or war criminals were punished after the war was over. Those who were big names, those who couldn’t evade the justice, were brought under the Law but others, whose roles were either disputed or they were influential and rich enough, bought their way out of it. They paid their money as compensation to quieten the resentment that surrounded them. Since I am taking example from our lives, I wrote the post-war Britain that way. A Ministry that was heavily infiltrated by Voldemort’s supporters and had a puppet Minister, is not likely to change very soon if we consider the post-war reality. I hope my readers will keep that in mind when they read this chapter for I am quite confident that they understood what I meant. 
> 
> 2\. The whole chapter is from Draco’s point of view. I tried very hard to make it look real.
> 
> Acknowledgements:
> 
> EuroStar is a high speed train operating between Britain, France and Belgium and it uses St Pancras International as London terminal and it takes approximately two hours to reach Paris North Station or Gare du Nord in France.
> 
> The Metro lines have been written after in depth research of Paris Google map. The stations I chose were Cité and Gare du Nord.
> 
> The tree symbolisms were taken from various websites.
> 
> Disclaimer: The copyright to Harry Potter characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Any other characters are purely work of fiction and any resemblance is co-incidental. No money or profit is being made from this work.

** Chapter 37: Grape of Wrath (Part 1) **

**D** raco apparated in the narrow, deserted alleyway behind the Delacour residence where the old, moss covered door, that he had once used to intrude the house, was set in the perimeter wall. He found it as it was before: rusty and creaky.

Since he left the St. Lupus’s facility fifteen minutes ago to come and claim the memories of Hermione Granger’s pregnancy rightfully from Apolline, he had been considering possible ways of accessing her. From his earlier experiences here under the Disillusionment Charm, he could recall that the Delacour matriarch usually remained at her home during the afternoons and he just couldn’t wait any longer to owl her first.

Besides it would be immense fun to appear on her doorway suddenly and demand the memories: an act that will also establish that he, Draco Malfoy, was no longer a coward and would do anything to get what he cherished.

Feeling jubilant, Draco slowly unlocked and opened the door.

The grounds appeared deserted like the alleyway behind.

Draco closed the door firmly behind him and started for the main entrance door, his face firmly set to appear as composed and apathetic as possible: he would be doomed if he showed any signs of physical weakness before that woman.

Unlike before, he knocked on the door once he reached it and waited on the threshold patiently for Apolline to answer it.

“State your name and purpose.” a voice came instead from the brass knocker that was set on the polished mahogany door and remembering the similar manner of greeting that the wrought iron gate in Malfoy Manor delivered to any stranger, Draco replied solemnly.

“I am Draco Malfoy and I am here to meet Madame Apolline Delacour.” he declared.

It opened almost a minute later, an astounded looking Gabrielle peeping at him through the slim gap.

“What do you want?” she asked suspiciously narrowing her blue eyes.

“Mademoiselle Gabrielle,” Draco addressed the young woman pompously, “I have already stated that I want to meet your mother Madame Delacour. Can I enter now?” he asked calmly.

“No,” Gabrielle shook her head, “I don’t trust you. You are a criminal.” She said fiercely, “How did you get in? I didn’t know that you know our apparition password.”

“I must admit that I am impressed at how you welcome your guests.” Draco replied, amused how his mere presence was making Gabrielle nervous, “It is most befitting to your esteemed family. As for the question you asked, didn’t you so just say, Mademoiselle, that I am a criminal?” he asked her coolly, “Then you should also know that criminals always find a way to break and enter.”

Gabrielle opened her mouth to retort but Apolline voice came from behind her, “Who is it, Gabrielle? Who are you talking to?” she asked her from somewhere inside the house.

“It’s him, maman, Draco Death-Eater Malfoy.” Gabrielle replied vehemently, not leaving her eyes from the man before her.

There was a pause and then Apolline’s voice came again, “Let him in.”

Draco smirked and waited as Gabrielle moved and allowed him to enter.

Once inside, he waited for Apolline to appear in the entrance while Gabrielle cast him dark looks.

The Delacour matriarch appeared moments later and Draco bowed to her elegantly, “Madame Delacour.” he addressed her, “A very good afternoon to you.” He said solemnly.

Apolline nodded to indicate she has accepted his greeting, “What is it Malfoy?” she asked him sharply, “I don’t recall inviting you for afternoon tea.” She said evenly.

“I assure you Madame that I, too, didn’t come here to consume tea since isn’t not my favourite beverage.” Draco replied, “I came here to obtain what was promised to me in return of my voluntary participation to a certain project.” He stated arrogantly.

Apolline eyes narrowed for a fraction before it moved to her daughter, “Gabrielle, dearest, you can go now. Maman can handle the situation.” She assured her gently.

“Alright, maman. But if you need me in any case, call me.” Gabrielle said and casting a sideways glance at Draco, left them on the hallway.

“Come with me,” Apolline ushered Draco and he followed her without another question.

His mind set on the memories that he will receive very soon, Draco didn’t pay much attention to his surrounding as Apolline took him to a room located at the furthest end of the hallway and the door opened on its own accord as they approached it.

Draco looked around the room as he entered: it appeared almost like his aunt’s parlour.

“Sit.” Apolline instructed him curtly as she took one of the elegant sofas, “Have you brought the necessary proofs.” She asked as Draco took his seat across from her.

Nodding silently, Draco reached inside his coat and retrieved the piece of parchment that was given to him as a testament that he had participated as a volunteer for St. Lupus’s Lycanthrope facility, “Here,” he handed her the paper, “I was subjected to the first test dose of Lupus Venom last Saturday and it ended last night. You can find all the necessary details there.” He said placidly.

Apolline’s eyes roved down the parchment as she read it before returning it to Draco again.

“You look too well for a volunteer.” She commented skeptically, her gaze piercing Draco’s confident form, “I hope you had the time of your life last night.”

“I did.” Draco admitted lightly, “It was most fascinating for I was unable to talk or make any sounds for nearly eighteen hours as waves after waves of pain tore my body.”

“You are best when you don’t talk or use your foul mouth for any other purpose, Malfoy.” Apolline remarked coolly.

“I beg to differ, Madame.” Draco countered impassively, “But let’s stop beating about the bushes and talk about the business that brought us together. I want those memories.” He said in a demanding tone.

Apolline crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow at him, “Remember this Malfoy that you are sitting in my parlour in my home at my neighbourhood in my country. So you, certainly, will not be ordering me around. I am not doing any business with filthy violators like you and you cannot force me to give you those memories.” She said icily.

“Fine, I apologize.” Draco said in a forced calm voice; this woman had a phenomenal ability to infuriate him and sensing that it was last thing he needed to show now, he quelled down.

“That’s better.” Apolline gave him an infuriating smirk, “Since you are behaving like you should, I think I can give you those memories.” She said lightly, “But,” she uncrossed her arms, “on one condition.”

“I am all ears.” Draco noted.

“Remember Malfoy, these memories are very precious for me. They are the remembrance of the motherhood of an innocent woman, who sacrificed everything she had to bring this child to this world; so don’t you dare play with them.” Apolline said in a warning tone.

“The woman you are referring to is my wife now and the child she brought to this world is my only living son.” Draco supplied, “Contrary to the popular notion, Madame Delacour, I am not that sick to play with the memories of my son’s life inside his mother’s womb and his subsequent birth.” He said firmly.

“I will take that as a yes.” Apolline commented coolly and removed her wand from her sleeve, “Do you have a Pensieve?” She asked him as she conjured a large crystal phial and put it on the table.

Draco nodded, “I will use my Uncle Morpheus’s Pensieve to watch the memories.” He replied solemnly and watched silently as Apolline gave him a thoughtful look before placing the tip of her wand over her temple and closing her eyes.

It was not that Draco hadn’t seen the scene where people removed their memory before; he had seen it plenty of times. But there was a gulf of difference between this experience and his previous ones; for he had never felt apprehensive like this before.

Beads of perspiration appeared on Apolline’s fine forehead as she concentrated on the memories and after a long silent wait, she removed a thick, shimmering silvery strand that coiled and uncoiled at the tip of her wand.

Draco let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he saw Apolline carefully dropped the strand in the large crystal phial and sealed the mouth.

“Jean was almost on her third month when she came to France in June 1998.” Apolline stated looking slightly lost, “I am a certified midwife and I assure you that normally women tend to forget the finer details of their pregnancy with time. But Jean was a very special case for me. Try as I might I can never forget what she went through when she carried Adrian inside her.” She shook her head and sighed, “You will understand what I meant once you see them yourself. Besides, my memories have stark clarity since I remember them almost every day and discover what a wonderful woman Jean is.” She said and gestured Draco to take the phial.

Without further ado Draco pocketed the phial carefully and stood up to leave.

“I guess you used the back door to breach our perimeter.” Apolline said looking up at him, “I realized it the day you kidnapped my grandson Adrian. I could have blocked it and stopped you from coming inside, Malfoy, but I wanted to see you sneaking like a thief inside my boundary once again and inform it to your aunt Audré. I am sure she will be most delighted.” She teased, “Use the apparition point next time when you come and please,” she arched an eyebrow, “owl me beforehand. The password is…” she paused and smirked, “…after someone you claim you can die for.”

‘Adrian.’ Draco immediately deduced and with a curt nod he left Apolline’s parlour.

As he walked back through the hallway to the door and exited once it opened for him noiselessly he decided to pay his mother Narcissa and his son Adrian a visit before he proceeded with the memories.

He used the apparition point this time and when he opened his eyes in the gardens of his uncle’s Château, he noticed that the sun was almost at the western horizon and his mother was sitting on a garden bench just opposite the apparition point, looking extremely sour and tense.

“Where have you been?” she almost barked as she stood up and walked over to him.

Draco braced himself for a thunderstorm, “Mother, I informed aunt Audré last night that I will be staying at my classmate Dominique’s home for an important assignment.” He lied solemnly, “Didn’t she tell you?” he asked innocently.

“Audré did tell me something like that when you failed to appear at breakfast this morning.” Narcissa said through gritted teeth, “But I am your mother, Draco Malfoy, and I know that you have never been serious enough to stay at someone’s place for the purpose of studying. Tell me the truth, now, boy. Where have you really been?” she asked furiously.

“Mother, I was telling the truth then and I am telling the truth now.” Draco replied calmly, “I was at Dominique’s place to finish an assignment Olivier Metzner gave us last week. I guess I don’t need to explain who Olivier Metzner is and though I admit I have never been so serious to stay at someone’s place to study, I assure I have changed now. Sorbonne is not a school and I am not a teenager anymore. This Law course is very important for me because it is the only way I can prove to Adrian that his father can be a man and can take good care of him.”

His mother gave him a piercing look and sighed, “Next time, when you plan to stay out overnight, Draco, inform me beforehand. You may think that you are a grown up man now and can do as you please. But let me remind you that I have no one else in the world except for my only son and since you are a father yourself, you should understand what I feel when I don’t see you around.” she turned to her heels to leave but Draco stopped her.

“Mother, I know you care for me.” He said softly as he turned her once again to face him, “I know you love me. Can you not forgive me?”

Narcissa shook her head and blinked rapidly to beat her tears, “No, Draco, I can’t forgive you, not now, not ever. I may care for you, I may love you because you are my only child and I am your mother. I bore you in my womb for nine long monthes; I nourished you from my own body. But what you did to that poor girl…” she shook her head again, “you insulted both her womanhood and motherhood. You took away her most sacred elements – her innocence and honour. Do you have any idea what honour means for a woman? They can die but they can never let someone spoil their honour. Maybe if you had a younger sister, Draco, you would have understood that, for I desperately wish now, that I had a younger daughter too.”

Draco was suddenly reminded of the Royal Jelly his aunt once told him about and he almost opened his mouth to ask Narcissa about it but checked himself at the last moment.

“I am sorry, mother.” He apologized for second time that day, “I am really sorry.” He said earnestly.

“For a crime like that sorry is not enough, Draco, sorry is not enough.” Narcissa said firmly, “But I guess there was some fault in my upbringing that you became like this.” she said sadly and without giving Draco any chance to reply, left.

Draco kept looking at his mother’s retreating form; all his earlier sense of victory completely evaporated by her fiery speech.

He started for Chateau to meet his aunt long after his mother left.

Using a locating spell, he found her in her grand chamber, more precisely in the bathroom. Draco was about to leave and return after sometime when a tender laugh echoed around the spacious room.

Adrian was laughing and it was coming from his aunt’s bathroom.

Whipping around instantly, Draco strode to the bathroom and found its door ajar.

Very carefully he opened the door an inch, just enough to let him see what was happening inside.

The most intriguing sight met his eyes.

His son Adrian was sitting on the wide marble bathroom counter, cross legged as his aunt almost wrested with a Peter rabbit, who was refusing to take a bath inside the wash basin.

“Peter,” Adrian called his rabbit, “Be a good boy and let grandma give you a bath.” He patted the wet rabbit, who quivered under running water, “I am always a good boy when Mama gives me bath.” he said in a encouraging tone.

“I guess Peter is not very fond of water like you do, dear little man.” Audré commented, pouring some shampoo over the rabbit and working into lather.

“I love water.” Adrian piped and scratched his rabbit behind his ears, “I play bubble games with Mama. I blow big, big, big bubbles and Mama punctures them.”

Listening to the conversation that ensued about the rules of Bubble game, Draco admitted that he would really love to play it with his son sometime when he will blow big bubbles and his son will puncture them.

Contended that he had seen his son happier than he thought, Draco left them on their mission to bathe Peter and stealthily came out of his aunt’s grand chamber.

To his immense relief he didn’t meet anyone on his way back to his suite and once he reached there, Draco removed the phial of Apolline’s memories carefully before setting it on the night stand and casting a Protection Net around it.

Slowly he slipped out of his clothes and proceeded to take a much needed bath.

When his aching body immersed in the lukewarm water, Draco finally allowed him to be relaxed.

He leaned against the bathtub and smiled, ‘I have some of those memories now.’ he thought contentedly, ‘Now, I can see how my son grew up inside Je…Granger.’ he completed the name forcefully, ‘Now, I can finally see how she took care of my son. I will know everything about my son…about her…about them. No one can ever tell me that I don’t know how it feels because starting from today Draco Malfoy will know every piece of information about his son and wife.’

An hour after his bath, fed and watered, Draco brought his uncle’s Pensieve from his study, where it was under special password and placed it carefully on his table.

Casting a Do Not Disturb Charm around his bedroom, he reached for the phial which contained the memories and swirled its silvery contents once.

He sighed in satisfaction while his heart beat faster at the very thought that at last… at long last his son’s third month of life inside Hermione Granger’s womb was in his hands, waiting to be seen.

Eagerly, he pulled off the stopper of the crystal bottle and tipped the silvery contents into the Pensieve, where they swirled and shimmered, neither liquid nor gas.

 _“Remember Malfoy, these memories are very precious for me. They are the remembrance of the motherhood of an innocent woman, who sacrificed everything she had to bring this child to this world; so don’t you dare play with them.”_ Apolline’s voice warned inside his head as he eyed the silvery contents of the Pensieve.

He bent forwards, took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and plunged his face into the silvery substance inside the Pensieve. He felt his feet leave the floor, he was falling…falling….falling and then suddenly his feet touched the grounds as he found himself standing on a platform that was jam-packed with Muggles.

His hands instinctively reached up to cover his ears that were sensitive to sudden exposure to noise and frowning he looked around to find an Apolline Delacour with her son Alexis, both looking considerably younger and dressed impeccably in Muggle clothes, standing just beside him and looking expectedly at a row of Muggle trains.

He followed their gaze and realized that he was standing on the platforms of Gare du Nord, the Paris station that Apolline had told him to meet her when they made the deal about the memories.  With the realization came Apolline’s voice that told him something not even a week ago.

 _“This place…”_ Apolline had waved her hand at the station in general, _“…is from where Jean started her journey in France more than six years ago and should you succeed in your appointed task, Malfoy, you will start your journey from here too.”_

‘So this is where it all started?’ Draco looked around in anticipation for any sign of Hermione but the crowd around him was so thick that it was impossible to identify a particular face.

‘Wait patiently Draco,’ he chastised himself, ‘This is Apolline’s memory and Granger is bound to come here very soon.’

His other companions, however, didn’t look as relaxed as him; Apolline was standing tiptoe to look over the throng of crowd and Alexis was checking his watch.

“Are you sure, maman, the train is not late?” he asked his anxious mother, “or early?” he added, “I don’t know very much about these Muggle trains.” He admitted, “Fleur told me that she is coming by Eurostar and that it is always on time. If that information is correct then Jean Granger should be here already since the train arrives at Geru du Nord at quarter to four and it’s almost quarter past four now.”

“Thirty minutes has passed and still no sign of the girl!” Apolline said looking both irritated and alarmed, “Alexis, I think we should split up and start looking for her.”

“But I have never seen her before.” Alexis countered, “And you say that you barely remember her face because you last saw her almost a year ago. I think we should better stand and wait here by this Chocolate shop as she had instructed us. What if she comes here looking for us and we are somewhere else searching for her?”

His patience now running thin, Draco looked for Hermione and suddenly spotted a woman who was approaching the Delacour duos in measured steps.

“Granger?” Draco gasped.

His widened grey eyes moved down Hermione’s small approaching form as he took her all in, feeling surprised to the sight before him. She looked much younger since the memories were almost six and a half years old when she was barely nineteen. She wore a long and loose navy blue tunic with black pants and a loose black shirt which were too loose for her form and hang off her like a black cloak. Her long, brown, bushy mane was neatly tied except for places where she must have run her fingers through it and her lips were pink from nervous biting. She reminded Draco of a timid little gazelle with her wide, liquid brown eyes that were alert and uneasy to the unfamiliar surroundings and strangers.

Draco’s eyes next travelled down to her belly for any indication of a small mound there, but to his disappointment, Hermione Granger’s too loose clothes didn’t give a thing away about the presence of another life inside her.

“Monsieur….Alexis Delacour?” she addressed the man before her with caution and uncertainty while at the same time she winded her long shirt over her midsection that meant both to hide and protect.

“Mademoiselle Granger?” Alexis asked noticing the young woman before him and he nudged his mother who was scanning the faces of the Muggle crowd with immense concentration, “Maman, stop looking there.” He bid her, “I think we have found her.” He said in a low tone.

Apolline looked around and faced Hermione, her blue eyes roving up and down the young woman before her. They stared at each other for a long moment and then her lips parted into a genuine smile, “Welcome to France, dear girl.” She opened her arms at Hermione, “Come here, dear, come.”

Smiling weakly and casting a cautious look at Alexis’s direction, Hermione came forward and embraced the elderly woman who gave her a hearty hug.

“You are so small.” She commented, carefully scrutinizing Hermione’s loosely garment-fitted form when she released her from her embrace, “Do not you eat properly, my dear?” she asked with a reproachful look.

“I do.” Hermione replied, “I just have some….vomiting problem.” She confessed, now casting an embarrassed look at Alexis, who was watching her curiously.

“Alexis, will you not take care of the lady’s luggage?” his mother asked him with a knowing look and the man immediately left them in search of a Muggle trolley.

“Tell me about your journey dear. I hope it was fine.” Apolline asked turning her head to Hermione, who was watching her trunks carefully, “Did you eat anything on the way?”

“It was fine.” Hermione assured Apolline with a smile, “I took Eurostar from St Pancras International at London and they provided me with a meal during the two hour journey. I am not hungry now.”

“Of course you would say that, dear.” Apolline commented knowingly, “Pregnancy sometimes reduces appetite but it is essential that you keep eating no matter you feel hungry or not. I have prepared a good lunch for you and you will take it as soon as we reach home. It shouldn’t take much long since Alexis has arranged for a Muggle car from the Ministry.” She said gently.

Just then Alexis appeared pushing a trolley and he heaved Hermione’s trunks on them manually. When he was finished he motioned the ladies to follow him to the exit and a curious Draco followed them with numerous questions popping in his head.

‘Why did she take a Muggle train?’

‘Why was she late?’

‘Why is she so thin?’

‘Isn’t she eating properly?’

‘Is she taking good care of my son?’

‘What did she tell Potty and Weasel when she came here?’

Walking alongside Hermione, Draco kept his eyes firmly on the young woman who looked thinner and paler than he had ever seen her. True that he had never given her more attention than it was required to call her Mudblood, Draco at least knew that Hermione Granger was physically strong - thanks to the powerful slap she had given him on their third year. This woman however appeared quite weak as she almost panted while walking through the heavy crowd.

A careless Muggle, who was talking to someone in a small Muggle phone, suddenly bumped with Hermione and almost threw her to the station floor before passing them hurriedly.

“Hey! You filthy Muggle! Where do you keep that useless pair of eyes? In you buttocks?” Draco exclaimed, “You wait till I get you for hurting her.” He yelled and waved an angry fist at the oblivious Muggle before returning his gaze to Hermione who was massaging her painful left arm, “Are you hurt Granger?” he asked her before suddenly remembering that he was inside Apolline’s memory and she can’t hear him.

To his immense relief, both Apolline and Alexis had stopped on their way out to check on Hermione’s arm while she tried to pull it off, looking embarrassed, “It’s nothing Mrs. Delacour. I am fine.” She tried to convince the elderly woman who cast an angry glance at the crowd around them and lightly massaged Hermione’s arm before pulling out her wand just enough to cast a Repulsion Charm around Hermione.

“There, girl, no can touch you now.” she assured Hermione who smiled gently and thanked her for her thoughtfulness.

They resumed their walk again, the crowd easily parting around them to give them a berth of space; clearly Apolline’s charm was doing them a good job.

Draco still furious at the Muggle, kept his watchful eyes on Hermione and noticed suddenly that she was carrying a small bag hanging from her right shoulder.

“Why aren’t you giving that bag to the Delacour boy?” he snapped at her, forgetting that she can’t hear him, “You are pregnant, Granger and you are not supposed to carry anything at all.” He chided her.

But his words were lost in Apolline’s memory and Hermione kept carrying her bag.

“Tell me, dear girl, what took you so long to find us?” Apolline asked Hermione when they were almost near the exit, “We thought that the train was late.”

“No, Madame, the train was on time. EuroStar, the Muggle train I boarded, is never late.” Hermione replied, “I was feeling a little dizzy so I took some rest and then came to look for you. I am sorry if I have kept you waiting.” She said apologetically.

“Not at all, dear girl, not at all.” Apolline waved a hand at Hermione, “It is you who needs special care now, dear. I am glad that you took some rest.” She said as they finally reached the wide exit and came to a halt on a cobblestoned pavement.

Draco watched as Alexis wheeled Hermione’s luggage loaded trunk to a posh looking Muggle car.

“You brought a… Mercedes?” Hermione asked Apolline, astonished while she eyed a three-pointed star inside a circle, “For me? Why?”

“Well, you are Alexis’s sister’s friend and he is very fond of his sisters, Fleur and Gabrielle. He is the one who has spoilt them with his love. So there was no way he could bring any common Muggle car for her sister’s friend, my dear.” Apolline said with a gentle smile, “Besides, you need a smooth ride in this condition.” She cast a glance at Hermione’s modestly covered abdomen.

‘What the hell is a Mercedes?’ Draco thought both irritated and grateful to Alexis, who indicated the chauffeur to bring the Muggle vehicle to them. In next few minutes Draco watched as they loaded Hermione’s trunks in the back carriage and when the uniformed chauffeur held open the car door for Hermione and Apolline, he too boarded with them into the spacious car.

He sat beside Apolline while Alexis took the seat beside the chauffeur, still keeping his eyes on Hermione through rear view mirror.

“So tell me, dear girl, how is everything in Britain?” Apolline asked Hermione casually once she was comfortably seated and handed her a goblet of water, “Drink,” she instructed her when Hermione protested lightly, “You need to drink adequate fluid.” She said and Hermione took the goblet.

“Merci.” She thanked the elderly lady as their car drove through spacious Paris avenues, “Well the situation hasn’t changed much over last one month after Voldemort’s death. Though most of his followers were captured and sentenced to Azkaban, some pureblood families are still out of bounds.” Hermione said tersely and took a sip, “They are using their influence and family gold to keep themselves out of Azkaban. Besides, there are still huge number of silent supporters who belief in Voldemort’s dream of a pureblood society. They may not voice it in public but since they work in the Wizengamot or at other high ranks in the Ministry, it is difficult to completely eradicate what that mad lunatic left behind.”

Draco contemplated over her words. He knew that post-war Britain wasn’t the same as many envisioned it to be. With a lot of talented wizards and witches of Light side dead, and Lord Voldemort’s hidden supports still working at the Ministry and Wizengamot, his family was successful in escaping with just a House Arrest sentence for Lucius Malfoy at the expense of half of their Gringotts gold.  

“Mademoiselle Granger, who is running for the next Minister of Magic?” he heard Alexis Delacour ask Hermione, his eyes on the road ahead but head tilted slightly.

“Kingsley Shacklebolt is now Acting Minister of Magic but he won’t be for very long.” Hermione informed the man, “Though he is a pureblood wizard himself, many of Voldemort’s supporters detest him for his role against the puppet Minister Voldemort had planted, a man named Pius Thicknesse. He is having difficult time weeding out the corruption in the ministry and it is earning him even more resentment. But I hope he makes it to the office of Minister of Magic. He is an honest man and if anyone can indeed change the post-war society, it is him.” She finished the water and handed the goblet to Apolline.

“Fleur told me you have been to France once before.” Apolline said, noticing the dismayed look in Hermione’s face.

“Yes, I came here with my parents in the summer before my third year at Hogwarts.” Hermione replied, “I spent my summer here at Paris visiting Louvre, Eiffel Tower and other attractions. Where is your home by the way? Fleur told me it is near Notre dame cathedral. Is it true?” she asked Apolline.

Apolline nodded with a pleasant smile, “Yes, dear, it is true. La Résidence de Delacour or the residence of Delacour is in the heart of Paris in Ile de la Cité, one of the two natural islands in river Seine. The other natural island is Ile Saint Louis which is connected to Cité by Pont Saint-Louis. Notre dame is almost at walking distance from our home. I know it is hard to believe that Wizarding households can exist in such a historical place” she said noting the astonished look in Hermione’s face, “but our family residence is there since the fifteenth century along with some others. The Muggles know nothing of us.”

Draco was eager to listen more of their conversation but the scene shifted and he found himself standing on the Delacour grounds and outside their residence, the one he had left just few hours ago.

He looked sideways and found Hermione looking up at the gothic-style impressive three-storied building. 

“Welcome home, dear.” Apolline announced with a hearty smile and nudged Hermione to enter through the open door.

Draco watched as Hermione gave her Apolline an unsure and feeble smile before taking her first step to the place which will become her future home.

“I have told the elves to clear and arrange the East Wing for you and I hope you will like it.” Apolline told Hermione as they walked side-by-side and reached for a staircase that Draco knew would take them to their large suite, where Hermione lived with Adrian before he Claimed and brought him to his uncle’s Château.

“It is alright, Madame, you don’t need to worry about me.” Hermione told the elderly woman politely, “I can live almost anywhere but I thank you for your kindness.”

“No need to thank me, dear girl.” Apolline said as they took the flight of steps and Draco followed them closely, “I am glad that you came, dear. I was missing Fleur badly since her marriage and I have a feeling that very soon you will fill her place in my heart.” She said beaming.

The door to the East Wing was already open for them when Hermione and Apolline reached there. Draco followed them inside as Hermione looked around her new home.

“It’s huge.” She commented, awe-struck as she turned round and round on the sitting room, “I could do well with just one room, Madame. There was no need to arrange a whole suite for me.” She said modestly.

“Of course, there is.” Apolline protested, “Once the baby is born you will need a lot of space for it to walk and run. Well maybe it will take some time for him or her to reach to that stage but it will happen one day; so why not prepare it beforehand?” she smiled encouragingly, “Now come and see your bedroom.” She ushered Hermione to the next room.

As Draco entered the bedroom behind Hermione, he found it less cluttered with furniture. Except for the bed that was still the Queen-sized bed Hermione and Adrian slept since he found them and invaded their suite, there was a chest of drawers, a vanity and a reading table. Draco identified it as the same one that Adrian used to sit on and do his drawings or homework.

“It’s….it’s wonderful…” he heard Hermione stammered as she eyed the impressively decorated bedroom with few but elegant furniture, “I can never thank you enough, Madame Delacour.” she said earnestly and shifted her gaze to the floor where her trunks had been brought before she arrived.

“If you thank me one more time, dear girl, I assure you I will be very angry.” Apolline said her sternly and to Draco’s immense pleasure that put an end to Hermione’s rant, “And don’t you dare touch those trunks.” She warned the young woman when she reached forward to open one of them, “You had a long journey from London to Paris and should take some rest. I will tell the elf, who served Fleur, to come and unload your trunks.”

“But Madame, I don’t want elves to work for me.” Hermione protested and Draco groaned, “I can arrange my things with magic.” She supplied.

“For Merlin’s sake Granger, stop being so stubborn and listen to Apolline Delacour.” Draco growled at her, “And please, take that infernal bag off your shoulder. You are hurting yourself and our son.”

“I forbid you to whip your wand unless it is absolutely necessary, dear girl.” Apolline instructed Hermione firmly, who frowned, “Magical pregnancy is not like Muggle pregnancy. I guess Fleur has  told you that I am a certified Midwife.” She said and grabbed Hermione by her arm to guide her to sit on the bed, “Please don’t mind me asking, dear, but is the father of this child a wizard?” she asked.

Draco’s gut clenched tightly as he remembered the truth behind this pregnancy and he watched apprehensively as Hermione opened her mouth to reply.

“He…” she stammered, “He is a pureblood. Didn’t Fleur tell you about me?” she asked frowning deeply now.

“She did, my dear, she did.” Apolline replied gently, noticing Hermione’s uneasiness, “She told me that you were tortured during the war and that you are carrying a child. She also told me that your parents live in Australia and they don’t know anything about you or the baby because you have wiped off their memories. She never told me any details about who did it or when it happened because that’s not important. The baby is yours and yours only. He has no rights over the child since you weren’t married at the time of conception.” She explained kindly, “I asked that question because I wanted to assess the how much magical the child can be. Fleur told me you are a Muggleborn witch and if that monster is pureblood then chances of it being a magical child are pretty high. Now as I was saying before, magical pregnancies are not like Muggle pregnancy. While Muggle a woman only nourish her baby inside her womb, a witch not only nourishes but also infuses her baby with her magic. Though the baby gets his or her initial magic from his or her father but it the mother’s magic that continues to supply the magic till the baby is born. So if you use your magic to do your daily works the baby will not get enough magic to be a wizard or witch. Our magic isn’t endless my dear, like everything else in this world we also have a limit to our power. Pregnancy divides that power between two individuals and it the mother who has to sacrifice her magical comforts for a few monthes to supply her magic to her child.” She explained kindly.

Hermione was deep in thought following Apolline’s explanation and Draco stood patiently beside them to listen more.

“But I used my magic in last two monthes.” Hermione said thoughtfully, “I even drank Polyjuice potion to break into Gringotts with my friends. I fought in the battle of Hogwarts. That was before I knew I was pregnant. Have I hurt my baby?” she asked looking concerned while wrapping her arms around her midsection.

“Oh no, dear, the baby is still very small.” Apolline assured Hermione gently, “You didn’t hurt it since it hardly needs any magic now. But it will need magic as it keeps growing inside you and that’s why I told you to reserve your magic as much as possible. Even I had to abstain myself from doing magic as much as possible every time I became pregnant.” She said lightly and patted her shoulder, “Enough talking now, dear girl. You should take a bath, eat your lunch and take a good nap because from your looks I can tell that you are not taking good care of yourself.” She said and stood up, “The elves will take care of your luggage. Meanwhile lie down and take some rest.” She instructed.

As Hermione finally removed her bag and placed it on the night stand to lie down, the scene around Draco shifted again.

He found himself standing beside Hermione’s bed where the young woman in question was fast asleep.

Draco had never seen Hermione sleep before. Truth be told he had never even paid attention to any woman when she slept, even her dead wife Astoria never qualified to be on that list. Though they had shared the same bed and passionate love-making at times, Draco had never deemed it fit to look at her when she slept. Oddly enough this scene, where Hermione was sleeping, struck him strangely and crouching down, he looked at her properly for the first time in his life.

The woman before was almost curled into a ball, her arms wrapping her stomach loosely. Some of her bushy brown hair, that he had made fun of, ran down her uncovered neck while the others rested on the pillow she was sleeping. Her face, though pale, had a peaceful look on it and her eyes, even in their closed state made Draco want to stare at them for the rest of his time.

Unbeknownst to himself Draco just couldn’t take his eyes off the woman he had detested so passionately. He watched, almost fascinated, as Hermione slept while her breathing was deep and regular.

A small smile crept into Draco’s lips, ‘Adrian is sleeping and breathing with her, inside her.’ he thought pleasantly, ‘My son is sleeping and breathing inside her.’

So lost was he in watching Hermione sleep that when a woman gently stroked Hermione he looked up at her, extremely irritated that she disturbed the peacefully sleeping woman.

His eyes found Apolline Delacour who seemed to doing the same thing as he: watching Hermione sleep.

“Wake up dear girl, wake up.” She bid her gently and steering feebly Hermione opened her eyes.

Draco could swear at that moment that he had never seen such mesmerizing eyes before. Though they had shared the same classroom and school for six long years and he had a gross idea that Hermione Granger’s eyes were in fact ‘common’ shade of brown; he never knew that they were also filled with such innocence and intelligence. He had always preferred blue and green pair suitable enough to tempt him, for most of his female partners were either blue or green eyed. A darker shade such as brown or black was never his cup of tea. But this sleepy brown pair before him, that moved and rested on Apolline, had such wondrous depth in them that Draco wondered why he hadn’t noticed them before.

“Wake up dear,” Apolline repeated again, this time with a smile, “It’s almost nine o’ clock in the evening and you should take your supper now.”

“It is night already.” Hermione said, sitting up and trying to tame her wild curls and somehow it made Draco groan in irritation, “I am sorry I overslept.”

“No, dear it’s just fine. You had long journey this morning and surely, you need a good sleep. If it were not for supper I wouldn’t have awaken you. Now wash your face, freshen up and come downstairs. Though you have met them before, Gustave and Gabrielle are waiting eagerly to meet you.” She informed her.

Hermione nodded as she made a small pony tail and getting out of her bed she went to the en-suite bathroom.

Draco followed her when she came out from there and dried her face before starting for downstairs.

The whole of the Delacour family was waiting for Hermione in their dining table and she greeted them politely before taking a seat beside Gabrielle.

“Mademoiselle Jean.” Gustave addressed her, “The last time we met, it was my daughter Fleur’s wedding and I vaguely remember they used to call you something else, something with…” he tapped his chin thoughtfully as if trying to remember, “…something that started with H.” he said finally.

“Hermione…they called me Hermione, for that is my given name. Jean is my middle name and nobody except for my other two friends, Harry and Ron, knows about it.” Hermione informed the elderly man while Apolline ladled her steaming soup.

“Then why did Fleur tell us that your name is Jean?” Gabrielle asked curiously.

“I told her to do so.” Draco heard Hermione sighed deeply, “I want to start a new life here and my old name is nothing but a nuisance for me now. So I told her to tell you that my name is Jean; it is better that way since Jean is a common French female name.” she explained and spooned some soup to her mouth.

“Is the taste to your liking dear?” Apolline asked from her seat beside her husband, “Chicken soup is good source of protein for you.”

“It’s delicious Madame Delacour, thank you.” Hermione said politely, “I was wondering when I can start my studies? Fleur told me she has already written a letter about me to Madame Maxime.  When can I meet her?” she asked Apolline.

“Patience dear, patience.” Apolline said gently while Alexis looked up from his soup, “Not even a day has passed since you came to France and you are enquiring about Beauxbatons? Gabrielle is will be going back to her school on Sunday and we can join her then. Meanwhile eat and take rest, dear, for you need it badly.

“I never knew students could visit home in the middle of term.” Hermione commented glancing at Gabrielle, “We, at Hogwarts could go home only during vacations.”

“Hogwarts and Beauxbatons is not the same, dear.” Gustave said, helping himself with some salad now, “For example, Hogwarts has four Houses while Beauxbatons has none. The students are categorized according to the year they study. You will find it almost everywhere in France. Even the higher educational institutions like Sorbonne don’t have Houses.” He informed a surprised looking Hermione, “Another difference is that the students can visit their parents during the weekends should they like it. Beauxbatons may be a Wizarding boarding school but they allow their students this much freedom so that they don’t feel extremely homesick. Most of them don’t come for they have loads of homework to do but those who want to visit can take Beauxbatons Express from school to Geru du Nord to spend the weekend with their families.”    

Gustave’s explanation reminded Draco of what Dominique had told him before their Quidditch try-out that creating Houses simply created House prejudices.

Getting over his thoughts regarding house rivalry he watched carefully as Hermione took her soup and then pushed away the half-empty bowl.

“I am sorry, Madame Delacour,” she said to Apolline’s questioning look, “But I just can’t eat anymore. It has got nothing to do with your soup. The soup is fine. It’s just that I can’t…” she grimaced, “…eat a lot.” She finished her sentence.

“You eat like a bird my dear. No doubt why you are so thin.” Apolline gave Hermione a disapproving look, “How about some steak? Or pudding?” she offered.

“No, thanks,” Hermione was fanning her face with her hand now, “I don’t think I can take anything at all.” She said and furious, Draco slammed his fist on the dining table.

“Eat Granger, eat!” He shouted at Hermione, “You are forgetting that my son is inside you and you can’t play with his life by your lawless means.” He snapped and tried to pull the bowl of soup towards Hermione but realized that it was a memory and he could do nothing about it.

Fuming with rage and helplessness Draco slumped on an empty chair and hid his face in his hands.

“Maybe you can’t eat anymore, dear girl, but the life that is growing inside you needs that food.” He heard Apolline said gently and feeling hopeful he looked up from his hands, “That child depends on your for nourishment and without it he or she will be hungry for the rest of the night.” she stated solemnly.

To his great relief Hermione pulled the bowl of soup towards her again and started spooning its contents into her mouth without any more protests.

“That’s better.” Draco commented with a satisfied smirk as Hermione gulped down her food with a strained look on her face, “Don’t you dare starve yourself, woman.” He warned her eyeing her thin form.

‘But why is she so thin now?’ he asked himself, ‘As far as I can remember she was healthier than this when we last met in Hogwarts during the battle.’

His query was answered once the supper ended with Hermione finishing her soup and a piece of stake and she returned to her suite with Apolline in tow.

“I hope I am not disturbing your privacy.” She said as Hermione settled on her bed, “As a midwife I just felt like it was my duty to check your baby.” She said evenly.

Hermione massaged her stomach uncomfortably, “Thank you, Madame.” She said, “I was wondering how to ask you to check my baby but I was hesitating thinking that you have already done so much for me; that too just because I came with Fleur’s reference.”

“Why are you being so formal, my dear?” Apolline chided her softly and gestured her to lie down as she removed her wand from her sleeve, “Think me as one of your aunts and be frank. Now can you remove this dress just a little to reveal your stomach?” she offered.

Feeling elated that he was finally going to see his son Draco moved closer to the group and stood just behind Apolline, waiting for Hermione to remove her loose shirt.

“I…can you do this with the clothes on?” Hermione asked skeptically, “I don’t feel comfortable without my clothes, even before ladies.” She confessed and Draco sighed.

“It is alright dear, I can do with your clothes on.” Apolline said with an assuring smile, “In fact it was most insensitive of me to ask you to remove your shirt. It is very natural to feel uncomfortable since you were subjected to violent assault.” She said and waved her wand over Hermione’s midsection.

“When was your last normal period?” she asked her continuing her investigation.

“I don’t remember the exact date since we were on the run. But it was sometime in the middle of March.” Hermione replied, “I have already counted it, Madame, and my baby is due around Christmas.” She said.

“Which method did you use to count the Expected Date of Delivery, dear, Muggle or Magic?” Apolline asked now lightly pressing her wand tip to Hermione’s abdomen.

“Is there any difference between Muggle and Magic pregnancy?” Hermione asked incredulously, “To tell you the truth, I was planning to read books on it since I found out that I am pregnant but for last few weeks my friends were around me almost all the time. It would look suspicious if I read books on pregnancy so I just read the one Fleur gave me. I haven’t been able to finish it yet. So I used the Muggle method where it is 9 monthes ± 7 days. Why? What’s wrong, Madame?”

“Can you please stop calling me Madame? It’s hurting my ears.” Apolline said dismissively, “No, dear, nothing is wrong.” She assured a concerned looking Hermione, “It is just that for witches it is 9 monthes ± 21 days. We, witches bear magical child inside us not a non-magical one. Just like the magical folks live longer than average Muggles, the duration of a magical pregnancy is longer than a Muggle one. Those extra two weeks makes the child magically mature.” She explained calmly and gave her wand a final wave, “Well, it’s finished and I am happy to say that the baby is doing remarkably well. Do you want to know the sex?” she asked as Hermione sat up.

Though Draco knew the answer he was eager to hear it from Apolline’s lips. He had explicitly asked the Healer about the sex of the child he and Astoria would be having each time his first wife became pregnant when she was alive. He had been extremely happy when the Healer had told them that his wife was pregnant with a male child which meant he would have an heir to the Malfoy family.

But to his dismay, Hermione shook her head.

“No, I don’t want to know if it is a boy or girl.” Hermione said running her hand over her stomach, “It’s all the same for me. My parents didn’t teach me to discriminate between a boy and a girl, aunt. All I want is a healthy child – male or female, it doesn’t matter for me.” She said firmly, “Though for some it matters a lot to have a male child for they consider him as their heir.”

Her words hit Draco’s memory like a cannon ball and a conversation between him and his aunt Audré, resurfaced.

_“Astoria, who was Hemophilic, was given the Royal jelly so that she could produce a male heir. But all the males she produced suffered from their mother's disease and died early at age from unstoppable bleeding. I heard that Scorpius died from a minor nosebleed and after repeated attempts to produce another male heir under the influence of 'Royal Jelly', Astoria too became sensitive. She also died from bleeding. Had her first child been a female, Draco, she wouldn't have died like that. So as I said previously, it is your family traditions that killed that innocent woman who wanted nothing more than to give her husband an heir. And that's why you should be grateful to Jean that she is not a pureblood. It is she, whose 'Muddy Blood' is free from all kinds of inborn diseases and your son Adrian is alive and healthy. It is her 'dirty blood', Draco, that runs in the veins of that five year old boy and makes him what he is today – a lively child, despite you being his unfortunate father."_

Despite being inside Apolline’s memory Draco’s own memory clogged as a sentence echoed across his mind:

“ _Had her first child been a female, Draco, she wouldn't have died like that.”_

_“Had her first child been a female, Draco, she wouldn't have died like that.”_

_“Had her first child been a female, Draco, she wouldn't have died like that.”_

“I know that a lot of families prefer it that way, Jean.” he heard Apolline comment, “Mostly these families are pureblood and all they care is an heir regardless of the way it was conceived. Some even resort to extreme measures to ensure that the child is indeed a male child.”

“Like what?” Hermione asked curiously, “As far as I know, there is no way pre-determinate the sex of the child.”

Apolline nodded gravely, “There is a way, my dear, there is a way. There is a thing called Royal Jelly which when consumed before conception can guarantee that the child is male. It is a very well guarded secret among those who practice it. Practically it is illegal since it is violation of Mother Nature’s Law, but still there are pureblood families out there who practice it.”

“That’s abhorring and… and barbaric!” Hermione exclaimed, “I mean how can anyone have prejudice against one’s own child even before she was conceived?”

Draco flinched as Hermione’s words hit him hard remembering his own family was one of those who practiced the use of Royal Jelly.

“Let’s come back to your child, dear.” Apolline offered noting the sad look in Hermione’s face, “As I said before your child is growing up quite well. It…” she stopped when Hermione held out a hand.

“Please don’t call my child ‘it’.” she requested the elderly woman, “I know unborn babies are referred to as ‘it’ but that makes it sound them like some inanimate object.” She explained.

“What should I call him or her then?” Apolline asked curiously “You don’t want to know the sex so there is no way I can call the baby him or her without letting out the secret.”

“Call my baby…” Hermione paused, “Call him or her as ‘little rabbit’.” She said with a gentle smile.

“Little rabbit.” Apolline repeated after Hermione and smiled, “Interesting.” She noted, “Well, your little rabbit is growing pretty well. And if you continue to take good care of yourself, which you certainly didn’t take until today, the rabbit will be as healthy as child can be.” She said with a pleasant smile, “Tell me, dear, do you have any disease or were you ever subjected to any curse?” she asked Hermione suddenly.

Both Draco and Hermione’s face became grave as the question took them on the day of her violation.

A pale Hermione paled even more, “Why? What’s wrong?” she asked nervously biting her lower lip.

“Please answer my question first.” Apolline pledged.

“It happened the day…the day I was…” Hermione stammered, “…the day I was violated…the bastard who did that had a maniac aunt who used Cruciatus Curse on me. She even bit me and engraved this word on my skin.” She rolled up the sleeve of her left forearm and a horror stricken Draco found the unforgivable word etched across her skin.

“Mudblood.” Apolline whispered softly looking grimly at Hermione’s left forearm, “You kept the child even after this?” she asked Hermione incredulously, “You kept the child of a man who and whose family tortured you like an animal? Why, Jean, why?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Hermione asked back, her eyes shining with tears now, “My little rabbit is as much a victim as I am. How can I punish my child for the crime someone else committed? How can I kill my own child, my own flesh and blood?” she clutched her stomach protectively, “What is my baby’s fault in it? My rabbit didn’t ask that monster to torture me? That innocent child didn’t ask to be born like this?”

Draco had heard the same conversation once before only that time it was in Fleur’s memory and that was between Hermione and Fleur. Except for the part where Hermione had said that she would leave her country to save her son from him, Draco Malfoy and his esteemed Malfoy family, he was mostly unaffected to the other aspects like when Hermione had said that she couldn’t kill the child for it was innocent. At that time he had taken it for granted for the woman to bear him his son: rape or no-rape. Now almost a month after that memory, he realized how very selfish his attitude had been. It was as if he had considered his son like a piece of meat to be displayed in front of the world that he, Draco Malfoy had an heir not a son.

Shuddering and ashamed at the thought he focused his gaze once again on Hermione and found her silently shedding her tears.

“I am so sorry, dear girl, I am so sorry.” Apolline gently caressed Hermione’s cheek.

“You ask me why can’t eat, aunt! Why I am so thin?” Hermione said, sniffing audibly, “How could I not be? Do you know what I am going through for last three monthes? I was tortured brutally and now I am pregnant. I had to turn down the marriage proposal of the man I love. I had to sacrifice my parents for the sake of their well-being. I had to come to a foreign country where I have no one except for your family.” she said as tears flew relentlessly, “I don’t even have enough money to look after me and my baby. My parents used to bear all my expenses before and now they are not here. They sold their home and went to Australia as Wendell and Monica Wilkins for I wiped their memory of me.  Most of my Muggle savings are were used when we were hiding from Voldemort and looking for ways to destroy him. I am still not a graduate and there is no way I can earn money from a decent job. I don’t know what to do with my and my child’s future. All these things are making me mad.” She shook her vehemently, “I don’t want to end up in street or worse go for begging before Malfoys. Who do you think can stomach food at this condition?” she asked violently.

‘Granger doesn’t have money?’ Draco almost gagged in horror, ‘But we - Malfoys, Parkinsons, Crabbes and Goyles emptied half of your vaults to satisfy the Ministry that all those moneys will go for the benefit of the war victims and in return we received lesser sentences.’

“Why? My dear you are saying that you don’t have money? Surely the Ministry must have provided the War Heroes with enough gold.” Apolline now voiced Draco’s question, gently running her hand through Hermione’s curls.

“The British Ministry offered us – Harry, Ron and me - twenty thousand galleons each for our contribution in the Second Wizarding War. Though they didn’t tell us from where all those money are came from, I know it is from all those families who tortured me, my friends and even killed them. So I denied to take it.” Hermione replied firmly, “I can’t take that money aunt. I just can’t. It is an insult to the memories of those who were tortured and those who sacrificed their lives in the war: like Fred Weasley, like Remus Lupin, like Ted and Nymphadora Tonks, like Colin Creevey, like Professor Severus Snape, like many others who died in the battle. That money is stained with their blood and I am not raising my child with blood money.” She shook her head resolutely, “Kingsley tried to convince me to take it but I refused it on his face. I would rather beg in the streets than raise my child with that money. If my child grows up, he or she will eat and live from what I earn from my work. The money that I will use to raise my child will be soaked in my sweat not with innocent blood.” She declared.

Hermione’s honest proclamation knocked all air out of Draco. He stood there looking at the crying woman sitting on the bed, her right hand over her stomach while his emotions ran high.

_“I would rather beg in the streets than raise my child with that money.”_

_“If my child grows up, he or she will eat and live from what I earn from my work.”_

_“The money that I will use to raise my child will be soaked in my sweat not with innocent blood.”_

‘Who is she?’ Draco thought looking down at Hermione in a new found light.

‘What is she made of?’

‘How can she be so strong?’

‘And still so caring?’

‘And still so full of morality and conscience?’

The answer came to him in his aunt’s voice when they talked just two days ago:

“ _Jean is a virtuous woman; no matter how hard you tried to rob her from her innocence, she still remains as pure as gold. Her body may have encountered her first and last intimacy in the form of that violent ra…and bore the fruit in her innocent womb, Draco, but I can guarantee you that I have never seen a more pure and virtuous woman than her. She may not be a pureblood like your mother or Astoria or me, but her heart is so pure that it saved Adrian from all the vileness of the Malfoy blood. That boy is still innocent because his mother raised him, not you, Draco Lucius Malfoy.”_

Raised as a rich and arrogant pureblood, Draco had always associated the word ‘pure’ either with blood or with virginity. He had never endeavored to explore the other meanings of the word. Now after hearing this conversation between Hermione and Apolline, it’s other aspects unfolded before his eyes and he understood what his aunt Audré had meant by the words ‘pure’ and ‘virtue’. She had implied to not only Hermione’s physical pureness but also to her mental state of pureness and realizing it finally, Draco stood there mesmerized, wondering why he hadn’t seen it before.

“What do you want to do now, dear girl?” he was brought back to his senses when Apolline enquired of Hermione, “Do you have any future plans? No, my dear girl, don’t cry.” She wiped her tears, “And don’t be despaired, for time will rectify everything.” She gave her a hopeful smile.

Hermione sniffed audibly “I need…a job, any…decent job.” She choked, “I guess the school will not start before September and I have almost two and a half monthes. I want to use it to earn some money. Besides I need to practice my French too if I am to study and work here.” She wiped her reddened nose on her sleeve, “You didn’t tell me why you asked me about any disease or curse.” She noted.

Apolline face became grave as she replied, “Cruciatus during pregnancy is almost a death blow to the child. There are very few cases where women are subjected to that curse when they were pregnant and most of them miscarried. I am astounded that you carried the baby till now and your rabbit is healthy despite you being so ill and depressed. But I don’t think it is going to be over any sooner now. My wand tells me that it is still coursing in your veins and you may suffer from more attacks in near future.” Draco watched as Hermione’s features grew grim with every word, “But don’t you worry, my dear girl, I am here and I’ll look after you till the end.” She smiled hopefully.

For the first time in his entire life Draco was cursing his aunt Bellatrix Lestrange with all his heart. If he had felt dislike for that maniac woman previously, it was nothing compared to what he felt now. He wanted to dig her out of her grave, reincarnate her and kill her again and again and again until there was no Bellatrix Lestrange to bury.

“We will see what we can do about your job, dear Jean.” Apolline assured Hermione, “Now, drink this.” she handed her a large glass of milk that the elf had brought, “And sleep. You and your little rabbit need it.” she smiled encouragingly as Hermione took a small sip.

“I don’t know why, but I just can’t stomach milk these days.” She said grimacing at the large glass of white liquid.

“Easy now, Granger, easy.” Draco tried to assure her in his softest voice though he knew he couldn’t be heard, “Just relax and take your time.”

Hermione did take her time for it took half an hour for her to finally finish her milk before Apolline’s watchful eyes and lied down as Apolline stood up to leave.

“I suggest that you don’t lock the door when you sleep, dear girl, though I know it is hard considering what you have been through and there are men living in this house.” She said solemnly, “I will come to check on you at night and I swear on my Villa blood that no shall enter your suite without your expressed permission.” She said to a doubtful looking Hermione, “Now, sleep, my child, sleep.” She bid and turned to leave.  

For some inexplicable reason Draco was eager to watch Hermione as she sleeps but to his immense dismay the scene shifted again and the room he was standing on, vanished.

He was standing on a very spacious chamber flooded with sunlight that were entering through ceiling high stained glass windows. It was divided into bays by giant Corinthian columns and was elegantly decorated in a symphony of blue flock wallpaper, white velvet curtains and figured-silk wall hangings. The Corinthian columns were painted with beautiful portraits while a few portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses hanged from a corner wall.

Narrowing his eyes in bright sunlight since the last memory was in a semi-dark room; Draco looked around as much as he could and found an elegant and graceful looking handsome woman whom he had seen in his fourth year when the Beauxbaton delegates arrived in Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament.

“Madame Maxime?” he whispered watching the shiny olive skinned giant witch who had black eyes and sleek hair drawn into a bun. She was dressed in a pale green robe of finest satin and wearing expensive emerald jewelry.

“So, Jean Granger.” She addressed the small woman sitting before her gigantic table, “You wish to continue your study here is Beauxbatons? Why? Isn’t Hogwarts good enough?” she enquired lightly.

Though Hermione paled considerably at the question, she lifted her chin defensively and fixed her gaze directly at the larger and stronger woman before her.

“Hogwarts is still the best Magical school in whole Europe, Madame.” She said proudly, “But I am no longer fit to study there. I am…I am pregnant and the father of my child doesn’t desire to have a half-blood son or daughter. They are very snob purebloods and I am a Muggleborn. Therefore my child’s life is at stake should I try to continue my studies in Hogwarts because once they come to know of this child’s existence, they will try to get rid of him or her either by killing or injuring me gravely. So I decided to leave my country and continue my education elsewhere, somewhere they can’t reach me and my baby.”

Draco, who had already walked over to stand beside Hermione, looked at the grave face of Madame Maxime, who took out a letter and opened it.

“My dearest pupil Fleur Delacour now Fleur Weasley did write me that you were tortured during the war but I didn’t know that it was this serious.” She said grimly, “I thought she meant that you were physically wounded and became disabled. But here the situation is graver than I expected. How far are you in your pregnancy?” she asked.

“I am on my third month.” Hermione replied as Apolline, who was sitting beside her, laid a supportive hand over her hands.

“That means when the classes start in September you will be on your sixth month.” Madame Maxime counted on her large fingers. “Six monthes means that you will have a bump and you will face some difficulties of being a pregnant woman. Are you sure you can take up this challenge?” she asked Hermione skeptically.

“I have to, Madame Maxime, I have to take it.” Hermione replied determinedly, “My reputations till now have been good in Hogwarts and my teachers were always pleased with my record. I have already lost a year for the war and if I don’t continue now, I will be considered a defaulter which will destroy my chances to get a good job. May be I am a war heroine, Madame, but right now I am choosing to be Jean Granger than Hermione Granger and I need a decent life  in order to survive in this foreign country.”

Madame Maxime continued eyeing Hermione over her joined fingers, her brows in deep frown.

“Why leave behind a life of comfort and security for a life of hardship? You can easily get rid of this child of yours and go to live your life in your own country. Then why did you choose to be Jean rather than Hermione Granger?” she asked sharply.

“Because Jean or Hermione, I can never kill an innocent child!” Hermione stood up, her body shaking with emotion, “May be I can abort this child and go on living like I dreamt of and no one will know about it, ever. But what will I answer myself? That I killed an innocent life for my own good future? That my hands are stained with the blood of a child, who never chose to be born like this? What is my child’s fault in this?” she asked vehemently and shook her head, “No, Madame, no.” she placed her hand over her abdomen, “I would rather die than kill this innocent life that solely depends upon me.  My child breathes through me, eats through me and our heart beats together. Fleur told me that teachers at Beauxbatons will empathize with me but if my pregnancy is creating any problem in you accepting me as a student then I will respectfully decline and leave.” She said firmly.

‘Typical Gryffindor!’ Draco commented but he couldn’t add his spite to his comment this time. Instead his Slytherin heart swelled in pride that the woman before him showed such commendable courage and determination.

Though he knew that in the end Hermione was accepted in Beauxbatons he watched apprehensively as Madame Maxime’s joined hands flickered to indicate Hermione to take her seat again. 

“I have seen many pupils during my time as headmistress here in Beauxbatons,” she said finally, her voice deep and resonating across her chamber, “but I must admit I have not met someone like you before. No, I am not against your enrollment as a student here, though we have almost no British student here.” She said smiling and quickly regaining her serious composure, “While pregnancy is not a crime, pregnancy out of wedlock is deeply discouraged in our traditional Wizarding society. I know it was not under your control and we here, in France, are quite frank about it. So, I hope that almost everyone will help you once you start your education here. I ask you take a lighter course and do not overwork yourself sine your child will be needing your magic.” She advised.

“I have already explained it to her, Madame.” Apolline piped from beside Hermione, “She understands that she is not to overwork and tire herself both physically and magically.”

“The Ministry has a strict guideline for education of pregnant witches since every magical child is very important for us.” Madame Maxime waved her wand and a roll of parchment appeared before Hermione, “You can take a maximum of five subjects and should not attend more than a class a day. The rest of the time should be employed to your rest and homework. Is that clear?” she asked.

“Yes, Madame,” Hermione nodded as she scanned the contents of the parchment, “I have heard that there are no Houses in Beauxbatons like we had in Hogwarts. Since I have no House dormitory how will I be allotted my room?” she asked curiously.

“It is true that we don’t have four different houses by four founders like Hogwarts did since Beauxbatons was founded by one wizard instead of four. You will be allotted your room in Seventh Year Female Wing along with other female students of your year.” Maxime replied, “Do you have any more queries?”

“Yes, one last question.” Hermione said and Draco was reminded of her infuriating questioning habit in Hogwarts, “Can I work when during my spare times?”

“Well, unlike Hogwarts and Durmstrang, Beauxbatons doesn’t have any strict laws about students not working outside school.” Madame Maxime replied patiently, “Many of our students come from families that are very well-off and therefore students, who are of age, are allowed to earn their own money. Remember, Jean Granger, our rules may not be as strict as Hogwarts but our standards are very high and we expect you live up to it.” she said proudly.

“I will try my best, Madame, not to disappoint you in any manner.” Hermione nodded with an encouraging smile and before Draco could so much as a blink, the scene around him shifted again.

In contrast to where he had been previously, a spacious office with only three people on it, his surroundings were packed with people.

Startled he looked around and found himself standing on a Muggle platform with people waiting idly.

“This metro is the best Muggle transport for Parisian magical community.” Apolline voice said from behind him and Draco whipped around to find a modestly dressed Hermione and Apolline standing on the platform.

“Out of the two natural islands in the Seine: Ile de la Cité and Ile Saint-Louis, our island Ile de la Cité has the only metro station that connects us with Les Halles, the Wizarding shopping alley and other notable magical institutions. Since where your work place falls in this route, it is better that we take this metro. I have used it plenty of times,” she smiled at Hermione who looked curious, “I really find Muggle metro fascinating. Sometimes I travel it to go to Les Halles.”

“How frequently does it leave?” Hermione asked, looking at a small piece of paper that looked like a torn piece of ticket, “I hope we won’t be late on my first day at interview.”

“Oh, no dear girl, we won’t be.” Apolline shook her head, “The metro leaves in every four minutes and it will take us approximately thirteen minutes to reach Geru du Nord metro. The place where you will be working is near to that station.”

‘Geru du Nord?’ Draco whispered, ‘I hope she is not taking Granger to the werewolf hospital that she did with me.’

The conversation didn’t run long for the metro arrived and throng of people around him poured inside while those were boarding it came out.

“Hey moron! Look before you walk!” Draco warned a Muggle, who was talking to someone in his Muggle phone when he remembered the incident the day Hermione arrived in Paris but to his surprise the crowd parted magically as Hermione stepped on the metro majestically.

‘Repulsion Charm.’ Draco whispered, a small smile playing on his lips now, ‘Well done, Apolline Delacour.’

“Aunt Apolline, will you not tell me where you are taking me?” Hermione asked once they were seated securely and Apolline shook her head while sporting a mysterious smile.

“Uhum!” she said pleasantly, “But I assure, dear girl, that you will like it very much. Now, I guess you have already figured out how you are going to disguise yourself?”

“Disguise?” Draco frowned, “Why should Granger need to disguise?” he asked himself incredulously.

Hermione sighed and nodded before casting a cautious look at the Muggle passengers, “Do I have any choice on that matter, aunt? Every day Wizarding newspapers are publishing my photos. Almost every wizard and witch knows me by my face: that this is Hermione Granger. Will it not look suspicious if they someone suddenly finds me working in a place in France whereas they know that I have left for Australia to look for my parents? I have decided to put some Glamour Charm on me and use my name slightly altered, like Jean Grange instead of Hermione Jean Granger.” She explained.

Apolline shook her head sadly, “I wonder what else you will have to endure for this child you chose to keep.” She commented, “Leaving family, friends and country, changing looks and identity. I hope this child of yours realizes one day what its mother had to go through to bring it to this world.”

Draco too, was contemplating over the idea when the metro slowed down and glancing up at the station, Apolline grabbed Hermione’s hand and signaled her to leave.

As they walked out of Geru du Nord metro Draco found Hermione entering the lady’s wash room. Even though it was Apolline’s memory, he hesitated for a fraction before following her in.

The Muggle washroom was clean and thankfully there was no one there except for Hermione and Apolline for the ladies took out their wands and waved the door lock.

“I just need to change my features a little.” Hermione said as she waved her wand elegantly to cast Glamour Charm over herself. A stream of bright light issued which engulfed her form and when it subsided Draco gasped at the view of the woman who stood before her.

“NO!” he yelled in anger, “No! Granger, no! What did you do? Why did you change…” he stopped mid-sentence realizing Hermione can’t hear his screams of frustration, “Why did change your eye colour? Green doesn’t suite you. You looked better in brown eyes.” He whispered eyeing the almond shaped green pairs now resting in Hermione’s socket.

Apolline sighed deeply, “Brown was better, Jean.” she said grimly, “If you are finished let’s go.”

As the ladies left the washroom Draco followed them, a battle of talks ensuing inside his head now.

‘Since when did you start caring about what that Mudblood’s eyes looked like, Draco?’ a voice mocked.

‘Shut up and stop calling Jean Mudblood.’ He snapped.

‘Jean? Ooohhhhoooo!’ the voice mocked even more and cackled, ‘Mudblood Jean. Nice name.’

‘She is not Mudblood Jean.’ Draco barked at the voice in his head, ‘She is my wife Hermione Jean Granger and she is my son Adrian’s mother. Understood?’

‘Understood.’ The voice cackled maliciously, ‘The pureblood Draco Malfoy has fallen in love with his Mudblood whore.’ He mocked.

‘SHUT UP YOU BASTARD!’ Draco screamed, ‘IF YOU INSULT HER AGAIN I WILL KILL YOU!’  He pointed his wand tip at his head and threatened, ‘NOW GET LOST!’

Thankfully the voice didn’t reply again and fuming with rage, Draco found Hermione walking side-by-side Apolline and talking animatedly.

“Wait!” she suddenly stopped on her tracks and placed a hand over Apolline, “Just wait a minute.” She pledged.

Draco, his anger subsiding a little, watched as Hermione approached an old Muggle woman who was difficulty in carrying her goods.

“Here, old aunt, let me help you.” Hermione said to her with a bright smile and offered her hands, “I will carry it for you.”

“No, Granger.” Draco snapped, his anger rising again, “You are pregnant and there is no need to be so kind to someone who is halfway to her grave.”

Hermione however has taken all the goods in both her arms and together with Apolline she followed the old woman, who was shaking her head as she talked.

“Young people these days, don’t care for the old and helpless. When we were young, it was considered as a duty to help the elderly people; whereas now, young boys and girls will walk past you and ignore you as if you are some cheap trash.’ She said shaking her head, ‘I have a granddaughter like you, girl, maybe a year or two older,” she indicated at Hermione “and we haven’t met for years since she lives with her mother and doesn’t have time for her old and rickety grandmother.’ She said sadly while walking extremely slowly.

Draco listened to her continuous babble and when finally Hermione shepherded her to her home, which was not very far from the metro they had left, she turned around and gave Hermione a rare smile.

“Merci, my child, you are a gracious woman. May God bless you.” She reached out and placed her hand over Hermione’s head.

“Don’t bless me there, old aunt.” a smiling Hermione removed the old lady’s hand and placed it over her stomach, “Bless me here.” She pledged.

“Bless my soul, my child, you are expecting and still you helped this poor old woman!” The old woman cried softly, “I pray to Lord and I pray to Holy Mother that you have the most beautiful and innocent child in the world.” She said gently stroking over Hermione’s stomach.

Draco didn’t even know when his anger has dissipated, for he was lost in the old woman’s words.

 _“I pray to Lord and I pray to Holy Mother that you have the most beautiful and innocent child in the world.”_ He whispered.

Adrian definitely fitted both the criteria.

Unmindful and serene, he again followed Apolline and Hermione, who came to a before a building.

“What is this place aunt?” he heard Hermione asked Apolline curiously, “It doesn’t have any sign boards.” She noted the front of the two storied building made of red bricks.

“That’s because everyone knows it a Wizarding Library.” Apolline stated, smiling now.

“Library?” Hermione asked incredulously, “Library!” she repeated, “Why did you bring me to this library? Am I to work or study here?” she asked skeptically.

“Both.” Apolline replied with a satisfied smile, “Fleur told me that you are very fond of reading and Alexis told me just yesterday that Monsieur Bélanger, who is the Chief Librarian of this Wizarding library, is one staff short. They need someone who has extensive knowledge on books and the first name that came into my mind was you. If you want, you can work here as one of the assistant librarians.”

“That will be fine for a start.” Hermione commented and reached for the door knob.

As a curious Draco followed them inside, the view that met his eyes was nothing out of an ordinary library. Although the building looked two storied from outside, it was four storied from inside and there were rows and rows of shelves housing numerous books. Hither and thither stood readers as they scanned through the shelves for books of their interest.

Apolline guided Hermione to an office at the back of the first floor and as they reached there, she knocked on it firmly.

“Entrez.” A croaky male voice called from inside and smiling encouragingly at Hermione, Apolline pushed open the door.

“Madame Delacour!” the elderly man with a balding head and a pinch-nez perched on his nose exclaimed and stood up before walking over to the pair of them, “Bonjour.” He greeted and eyed Hermione standing beside Apolline, “Please, come and take a seat.” He offered.

As Hermione and Apolline settled down before the cluttered desk of the Chief Librarian, Draco looked around the place.

The office of the librarian was small and surrounded with ceiling high shelves on three and a half sides which was filled with even more books. There was a large and elegant chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a large globe of the moving earth was rotating in one corner.

“Tell me how I can help Madame.” he heard the Chief Librarian Bélanger enquired of Apolline.

“This is my niece, Jean Grange.” Apolline introduced Hermione, “She is the only child of my cousin sister who lived in Cannes before her marriage. Her father is an Englishman so she was educated in England. Her parents were killed during the war so she came to stay with my family.” she said as Bélanger’s eyes rested on Hermione, “Now she needs a decent job besides her studies. I heard that you needed an assistant librarian and since Jean has good knowledge on books, I thought I could bring her to you.” She explained.

“Very well, Madame Delacour.” Bélanger commented evenly, “Now Mademoiselle Grange, tell me how do you know what we do in the library?”

Hermione nodded, “A librarian deals with provision and maintenance of information in many formats, including: physical books; magazines; newspapers; audio recordings; maps; manuscripts; photographs and other graphic material. He also makes a detailed catalogue of the books that are in possession of the library and maintains them from any physical damage.” She stated in documented language.

“Always the know-it-all!” Draco shook his head in disbelief and watched as Bélanger asked Hermione several questions before declaring that he was satisfied and she could join her work from next week.

“I must warn you, Mademoiselle, that we can’t pay as much as we do to a graduated witch or wizard. Normally we pay them five hundred galleons a month but since you are still under graduate, you will receive the half of the original amount. Is that okay with you?” the man asked.

“I am fine with it.” Hermione replied calmly.

“Well then, mademoiselle, see you next Monday.” Bélanger said before shifting his gaze to Apolline.

“Tsk..” Draco huffed in irritation, “Just two hundred and fifty galleons! Even the broom that I ride now is two thousand and five hundred galleons.” He thought resentfully, “They are buying cheap labour.” he eyed Bélanger with distaste.

He watched ruefully as Apolline thanked and politely refused Bélanger’s offer to take tea before coming out of the librarian’s office and started for the main entrance door.

“I hope you are not upset for being paid so low, Jean.” Apolline commented evenly as they reached the door and it swung open on its own, “Everywhere it is the same. No graduation means under-payment.” She commented.

“It is fine, aunt Apolline.” Hermione assured her solemnly, “I am not upset. In fact I am happy that my first ever job started as an assistant librarian. I love books and I can spend my whole day in library without being bored.” She said as they came out on the footpath.

“No more Muggle metro today.” Apolline said, taking Hermione by her hand, “I will apparate us both to home.” She said and turned on the spot.

The memories whirled around Draco and he came to rest on a garden.

He looked around the bright sunlit garden and realized that it was the same place in Delacour’s garden where Adrian’s Saining took place.

Next his gaze shifted to a Hermione, who was sitting on a comfortable garden chair, deeply immersed in a book on pregnancy while a small stack lay before him on the table.

“Jean,” he heard Apolline called Hermione from behind and he turned around to find the elderly woman carrying a glass of orange liquid to the table where Hermione sat.

“Here, take some orange juice.” She bid her before settling on the one of the chairs, “Orange juice is good for you and the baby. It will also keep your blood pressure low, which is particularly dangerous during pregnancy.” She stated.

Hermione closed her book and put it aside before grimacing at the large glass of clear orange liquid, “Do I have to take it all?” she asked timidly.

“Of course.” Apolline replied sternly, “Not a single drop should be left, Jean.” she warned her, “You are way too thin for a pregnant woman.” She pointed at Hermione’s thin frame.

“I am trying aunt.” Hermione protested, taking the glass in her hand and pressing her lips in distaste, “I was never a fat girl. I was always like this.”

“Really?” Apolline asked giving Hermione a dark look, “You tell that to someone who will believe in that cock and bull story of yours.” She said vehemently, “I saw you last year in Fleur’s wedding and your health was definitely better than this. Now drink it, Jean, looking at it will not give you or your any nutrition.”

“For Merlin’s sake Granger, drink the damn juice.” Draco growled, irritated.

Shaking her head in defeat, Hermione pinched her nose and gulped down the juice in one go.

“Happy, are we now?” she said, putting down the now empty glass on the table as Apolline smiled brightly, “I almost gagged.” She said sourly.

“You vomited twice this morning and emptied your breakfast in the loo, Jean.” Apolline said pointing a finger at Hermione, “Don’t think you can cheat my Villa eyes. You should better be prepared for a full lunch this afternoon because I am not letting you leave until there is a single morsel on your plate.” She said dismissively.

Hermione rolled her eyes and groaned, “I am not a troll, aunt, I am a human being.” She said.

“Whatever.” Apolline waved an indignant hand at Hermione, “Now come with me for I have an important thing to do with you.” She bid.

“If it is more eating, aunt, then I am really sorry.” Hermione warned.

Apolline laughed heartily at Hermione’s declaration “No, its not food this time.” she said and stood up, “Come.” She beckoned.

A skeptical looking Hermione left her chair and followed Apolline as she took her to the other side of the garden.

“Here, this is what I want you for.” She said finally coming at a rest on a clearing and indicated before her.

Draco narrowed his eyes and looked at the things Apolline was pointing.

“Seedlings?” Draco frowned at the baby plants before shifting his gaze at Hermione, who was looking at them curiously.

“I know you must be thinking why I brought to you these little plants.” Apolline said, noticing Hermione’s quizzical look, “It is a tradition among Villa families that a pregnant woman plants a tree and a shrub in the name of her unborn child. They say it brings health, prosperity and good luck for them both.” She explained.

“I have never heard such a thing.” Hermione commented, “And why plants? Why not something else?” she asked dubiously.

Apolline leaned forward and took a small plant in her hand, “Because, dear Jean, plants and mothers are metaphorically same.” She said to a confused looking Hermione, “Tell me what do plants do?” she asked patiently.

“Well they give us clean oxygen, fruits to eat, flowers to decorate ourselves,” Hermione replied, considering the question, “Their barks and alkaloids can be used for medicine and their lumber is used for fire to keep us warm and cook food.”

“You missed the most important point my dear,” Apolline said, smiling now and handing Hermione the small plant, “Trees give us shelter.” She stated, “In ancient times, when people had no home, they used to live under the trees for they protect them from scorching ray of sun, from heavy rain and from wild animals. Now what does a mother do?” she asked an attentive Hermione, “She gives her child shelter, protects it from harm and danger. She provides it with food just like trees provide us with fruits. She gives her child oxygen, meaning she brings it to life. She decorates the child’s life with her love and care. She looks over her child in sickness and provides it medicine. And in despair, she keeps their hearts warm at the expense of burning herself.” She finished with a warm smile.

Hermione was smiling and crying now, something that Draco never thought anyone could do simultaneously. He himself had never considered the matter that way; most of the Herbology classes he took were out of obligation and it was filled with distaste and dislike to touch the soil and fertilizer.

“I…I understand completely.” She sniffed and looked down at the plant at her palm, “I will definitely plant these now.” she said firmly.

“I chose a Peach tree and a Honeysuckle shrub for you.” Apolline indicated at the small plants on the ground, “The peach has long been regarded as a traditional symbol of good health, longevity and immortality. The Honeysuckle on the other hand offers protection and prosperity. The smell of honeysuckle sharpens your intuition, too. In addition to smelling absolutely incredible, honeysuckle also has a delicious edible nectar.” She said and waved around the perimeter, “Look at those trees that I planted when I was pregnant. I planted that Olive tree when I was about to have Alexis and olive means victory, strength and purification. I planted that Fig tree when I was carrying Fleur for it symbolizes security and prosperity and I planted that Apple tree when I was pregnant with Gabrielle. Apples symbolize youth, happiness, beauty and magic.” She elaborated, “I have chosen Peach and Honeysuckle for you, Jean, because right now your child needs good health, protection and prosperity.”

“I don’t know…” Hermione stammered as her tears flew relentlessly and she placed her other hand over her stomach, “I don’t know how to thank you.” She completed her sentence.

“No need to thank me, my dear,” Apolline shook her head and took Hermione’s hands in hers, “Thank Mother Nature for She has given you the most precious gift in the world: a fruit in your womb.”

The scene dissolved just as Draco was starting to appreciate her words and then everything was blank and silent.

He waited for more memories to follow but none came and feeling lonely and bitter he straightened his head and came out of Pensieve.

His suite was hollow and cold, just like his heart and Draco shuddered involuntarily.

He looked at the clock and found it was nearly nine o’ clock which meant he had spent nearly five hours inside the memories.

Except for some neck pain from prolonged bending and back pain from previous night’s venom testing, he was physically alright but his mind was whirling with what he has just experienced.

Every moment of that memory was worth every moment of pain he had endured. Apolline hadn’t been unjust when she asked him to pay her that way for the memories because no amount of money could buy what he had seen and felt inside that Pensieve.

And then it dawned upon Draco.

Why his son smelt of Peach and Honeysuckle whenever he took him in his arms?

The answer was clear as daylight now and Draco leaned on his chair with a contented smile.

‘What a marvelous woman and what a marvelous son!’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   


End file.
